


christmas tv

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, break ups & make ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 05:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12647082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: If you collect enough snapshots, you might get a story. The snapshots may be too messy or too vague, but, if you collect enough of them, you’ll be alright.OrSnapshots in the lives of Wonwoo and Soonyoung





	christmas tv

**Author's Note:**

  * For [historiologies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/historiologies/gifts).



> To Cat, my very own momther. 
> 
> I hope you know how much I love you and how much I admire you. You're one of my favourite authors and your stories are all so gorgeous, and I am constantly in awe of your talent. Imagine my surprise when ao3 user allthatconfetti (my number one idol) approached me and offered me friendship? Offered me a place in swn, and introduced me to a boatload of new friends. I owe you so much, Cat. And there's so much to thank you for, too much to put into words (but i'll try). 
> 
> Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for always supporting me. Thank you for taking me in and introducing me to the wonderful, loving group of people that is swn. Thank you for being so kind. Thank you for showing me love.
> 
> But most of all, thank you for being born on this wondrous day and for being such a supportive and amazing person. Ilu a lot, cat!!!! always and forever.
> 
> Also!!! all the amazing art in this fic was drawn by [kait <3](https://twitter.com/96Iine)  
> kait is the most talented most wonderful artist and i love her so much!!!!

**_It seems I drank a lot of coffee.  
_ ** **_My heart’s beating fast_ **

 

Wonwoo sighs as he watches Soonyoung drown his caffeine in cream. The mixture can’t even be called coffee anymore, it lost that privilege about five spoonfuls of sugar ago. He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that his boyfriend, a being incapable of handling caffeine, is drinking coffee, or that the dark circles under his eyes so starkly contrast his skin.

“You’ll get a headache,” he warns, sipping at his cup of tea. “You always do.”

“I’ve got a midterm and an assignment due, I haven’t got time for a headache,” Soonyoung whines, rubbing the remnants of fatigue from his swollen eyes. In the soft, morning light, it comes off as endearing; his fool of a boyfriend pouting down at the floor, stray strands of hair drifting into his eyes.

A part of him almost feels bad for Soonyoung. Wonwoo had awoken in the early hours of the morning and heard frantic typing coming from Soonyoung’s room. When passing by, a glow of light illuminated the crack underneath the door, signifying that its occupant was well awake.

This is really Soonyoung’s fault; Wonwoo had nagged him for weeks to start on his abnormal psych paper. Apparently, deadlines don’t concern Soonyoung until they’re right around the corner.

“I hate the taste of coffee,” Soonyoung sighs to himself, just loud enough for Wonwoo to hear. He rolls his eyes.

“Then don’t drink it.”

“And fall dead asleep during my exam?”

“Don’t expect me to feel pity, you had weeks to study for this test and you didn’t.”

Soonyoung pushes his face up against Wonwoo’s so that Wonwoo has to cross his eyes to see. Even then, Soonyoung is a bit of a blur.

“ _You_ try reading about the intricacies of fruit fly mating, see how much you want to study it.”

Instead of gracing the challenge with a response, he reaches out and captures his roommate’s face in his hands, squeezing as if to pop a balloon. Maybe if he squeezes hard enough, some logic will squirt out of the idiot’s mouth. Unfortunately, this does nothing but make Soonyoung laugh. Wonwoo gives up, allowing his hands to fall to his sides.

“Your palms are warm.”

“That's what usually happens when you hold a cup of tea,” Wonwoo snorts.

Soonyoung picks up his tumbler of coffee with disdain, handling it the way one would an object of great disgust. Maybe it’s because he isn’t all that awake yet, or maybe Wonwoo is as much of a fool as his boyfriend, but he plucks the coffee from Soonyoung’s hands and takes a sip, wincing at the flavour.

It's just sugar dissolved in hot water. Easily the vilest cup of coffee he’s ever had the displeasure of sampling.

“This is revolting.”

There’s not a lot that can surprise him, especially after years of friendship with Soonyoung. But when his boyfriend rushes forward and presses his chapped lips to Wonwoo’s, it’s incredibly surprising. The distance between them is miscalculated, and Soonyoung’s lips slam against his, hard enough that the impact jars them both awake.

It’s soft, though, the kiss. There’s nothing intimate about it. It’s as light as the filtered sunlight spilling in through their kitchen window. Soonyoung pulls away when he starts to laugh, puffs of warm air being blown into Wonwoo’s disgruntled face.

“It’s not that bad,” Soonyoung whispers jokingly, the corners of his mouth pulled into a bemused expression. He’d better not be talking about the kiss, Wonwoo can’t be blamed if it was bad; he hadn’t even realized it was happening.

“What?”

Soonyoung licks his lips as he winks, drawing back and grabbing his tumbler. “The coffee!”

It takes a few moments to process what just happened, what is still happening. And with wide eyes, Wonwoo touches his lips with his fingers.

 

 **_In your arms_ ** **_,_ ** **_the stars spill_ ** **_,_ ** **_and make the milky way  
_ ** **_I can fly anywhere_ **

 

Soonyoung comes home late, and he throws himself onto Wonwoo before a protest can be made. Wonwoo's peaceful reverie, sitting on the couch watching Planet Earth, is broken. Being the mathematics major that he is, his midterms had all been fairly early, leaving him with ample free time. Jihoon and Junhui, his other roommates, are slaving away at the campus library.

“You smell like sadness and complete resignation.”

“I feel like it too,” Soonyoung mumbles, words coming out muffled as his face is pressed against Wonwoo’s chest.

In all honesty, he’s not used to it yet. He’s not used to being able to call Soonyoung as anything more than a friend, and the casual way in which they touch. Kissing and laughing, and tracing the fine lines of Soonyoung’s face, it’s all a nouvelle experience. Despite being unaccustomed to such things, he finds that he likes it.

(He likes it when Soonyoung does it. If Jihoon ever tries to press his face into Wonwoo’s chest, Wonwoo is moving out.)

“If you’re going to sleep, shower first.”

Soonyoung only groans, encircling Wonwoo even tighter within his arms. He wrinkles his nose as Soonyoung’s hair tickles his skin, it smells of coconut.

There’s a lot of asshole things that he could do. The first might be to abruptly stand up, robbing the tired student of his nap pillow. Another possibility would be to push Soonyoung away and make himself more comfortable. These are all tempting choices, but he ends up running his fingers through strands of Soonyoung’s hair instead.

Slowly, but surely, Soonyoung falls asleep, breaths becoming deeper as he strays farther from consciousness.

“Idiot,” Wonwoo mumbles.

Jihoon and Junhui find them there a few hours later, asleep in each other’s arms with the television babbling on.

“On one hand, I’m glad you weren’t having sexy times with penguin mating in the background,” Junhui offers. “But on the other hand, it worries me that penguin mating is your ideal cuddle music?”

“And they say romance is dead,” Jihoon snorts.

 

 

 ******_Once, twice, three, or four times_**  
**_No matter how many times I tell you the story, I’m not bored_**

****

“You wouldn’t believe my stats prof,” Wonwoo huffs as he takes the seat beside Junhui. Jihoon is there too, squinting down at a book.

 **_A Guide to Proper University Presentations_ ** , the obnoxiously bright, yellow book boasts.

“Great read,” Wonwoo comments as he opens his sandwich container.

“I’m getting tested on it next week.”

“For Cognition?” Wonwoo asks, screwing up his face as he tries to recall Jihoon’s classes. It’s hard because he doesn’t care much.

“Perspectives.”

“Sounds boring.”

“It is.”

Junhui laughs, loud and bright, just like he always does. The sound is lost in the wave of noise, drowning in the tides of surrounding murmurs. And with a warm smile, Junhui speaks.

“The stats prof with the chronic scowl?”

Wonwoo frowns, lowering his sandwich and blinking away his confusion. “Have I told you this story before?” It’s strange, he doesn’t recall saying anything to Jihoon and Junhui, he’d have remembered their reactions, he’s sure of it.

“You told Soonyoung, and he told us,” Jihoon offers, eyes rolling.

“Like always,” Junhui hums, winking.

Wonwoo feels as if they’re trying to tell him something, or like the three of them are in the middle of an elaborate inside joke. He doesn’t understand what’s being implied, though. So, he shrugs it off, deciding to go along with whatever it is that Jihoon and Junhui are saying to him with their gestures and eyes.

 

 ******_You should do it once or twice, then I’d listen_**  
**_But whenever you have the time  
_ _You talk about him_**

“Did you hear about Soonyoung’s recent exam?” Wonwoo asks, nudging Jihoon as he plays his video game. It’s just the two of them in the apartment, Soonyoung and Junhui have a night class.

“No.”

On screen, Jihoon’s character goes down in a hail of bullets, curses flying from both Jihoon and the character’s mouths. His roommate hisses something about a lack of healing support, before reentering the thick of battle.

Wonwoo takes his time spinning the tale, it’s a funny one.

Jihoon laughs, genuine amusement colouring his voice. He side-eyes Wonwoo as well, with a look that screams of wonder. On anyone else, Wonwoo might have let it slide, but Jihoon doesn’t wear expressions of wonderment or awe. Ever.

“What?” he demands, nudging his friend with the tip of his elbow. Apparently, that’s enough to ruin Jihoon’s gameplay because his roommate tosses the controller on the floor in frustration, turning to glare at Wonwoo with narrowed eyes.

“Asshole.”

“Tell me what that look meant.”

“What look?”

“Don’t feign innocence, that side-eye. That look of knowing, the one you and Junhui _always_ wear.”

“It’s nothing,” Jihoon stubbornly insists, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

Wonwoo, being the incredibly mature adult that he is, resorts to assaulting his friend with his fingers, poking the student’s bony shoulders until he confesses. It’s a good thing he’s with Jihoon instead of Junhui, the latter is surprisingly firm when it comes to keeping secrets. Soonyoung’s the exact opposite, motor mouth going off, blabbering every secret he’s ever been told.

“Fine, fine! You and Soonyoung…. well, you’re always like this.”

“Like what?”

Wonwoo is afraid of what might follow this question. He’s worried that Jihoon disapproves of them, or that they’ve become an unbearable presence to their closest friends. In Wonwoo’s case, his _only_ friends; he’s not too fond of the students in his program and has gone to great lengths to avoid befriending them.

But Jihoon takes another approach.

“You’re always telling stories for Soonyoung, and Soonyoung tells stories for you, and you’ve both amalgamated so casually into one being. You don’t even realize it, do you?” Jihoon purses his lips, rubbing his palms together as if agonizing over what to say next. “And, sometimes, I can’t even remember if I was told something by you or by Soonyoung because you’re both……” Jihoon presses his two index fingers together, emphasizing a closeness that cannot be put into words.

It’s embarrassing, and he can feel himself heating up. He and Jihoon don’t talk about things like this, feelings and emotions are more Junhui and Soonyoung’s expertise. Wonwoo and Jihoon are responsible for bickering and snarky remarks, maybe a biting smirk once in a while.

“And that’s bad?”

“It’s…. it’s surprising. Because, fuck, I didn’t know you guys were that….” Jihoon throws up his hands in the air, giving up on formalities. “You guys are so fucking domestic, okay, and sure, we all are since we live together, but you guys are _really_ domestic. And it’s cute and shit, and Jun and I are endeared and also really annoyed.”

“Oh.”

Jihoon proceeds to cover up his shame by lunging for the controller. With the press of a few buttons, his friend returns to being virtually pummelled. Wonwoo tries not to think too hard about what he’s just been told, and instead tries to find similarities between Junkrat and Jihoon.

 

 **_Whatever you say  
_ ** **_It’ll become my happiness_ **

 

“Are we obvious?”

Soonyoung blinks up at him in confusion. They’re lying together on Soonyoung’s bed, mostly because Wonwoo’s bedroom is beside Junhui’s. Their friend snores loudly, the sound penetrating easily through the thin walls. It should probably offend him that Soonyoung is always sleepy whenever he’s trying to be serious, but he’s too fond to be upset.

“Hmm?” The psych major is at least trying to look awake.

“Jihoon said we’re endearing and annoying.”

“We probably are,” Soonyoung hums, words slurring together as he fights off the enticing pull of sleep.

“But are we really that obvious? Have we,” he scrunches up his face trying to remember what Jihoon had said, “amalgamated into one?”

“Mm, aamalgamated,huh? I love it when you talk dirty.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m tired, and I have no idea what you’re talking about? But yeah, we’re kind of obvious, I guess? Does it bother you?” It seems his boyfriend has regained some degree of consciousness, enough to lift his head and peer down at Wonwoo. “Does it bother you that other people know I love you?”

Wonwoo chokes on his saliva. Trust Soonyoung to bring out such intense words at one a.m. in the morning, when Junhui’s snores are ricocheting off the walls of their apartment.

He thinks a little, about how Soonyoung holds his hand when they walk together on campus, and how Wonwoo so casually bends down to give Soonyoung a goodbye kiss before class. How he knows Soonyoung’s favourite songs, and how Soonyoung knows the way that Wonwoo likes his tea. How they know the little things about one another, facts that hardly seem important to others, but mean the world to them.

“No.”

“Good. Because I do love you.”

This is probably where Wonwoo is supposed to repeat the sentiment, but Soonyoung is too far gone, head drooped in exhaustion. With careful fingers, Wonwoo reaches over and drapes the blanket over them. And he whispers goodnight into the shell of Soonyoung’s ear.

 ******_Our immature past_**

 

He thinks not of Soonyoung during the bus ride, but of Junhui. His friend had always been a strange one, enjoying frustratingly long commutes. It makes sense, of course; Junhui loved adventures, long car rides, and the journey there. He hopes his friend is alright, but, knowing Junhui, he’s definitely fine. The kid is resourceful, with a smile bright enough to light up the entirety of the country.

Jihoon briefly flashes through his head too, and he almost misses that trademark, all-knowing smirk. Jihoon’s studying a few cities over, Wonwoo scolds himself for not messaging him more often.

The bus skids to a halt, Wonwoo lurching with the momentum of the vehicle. There’s a bustle as the crowds of passengers scramble off, racing to carry out whatever it is life demands of them. And Wonwoo rises up too, a smile on his face.

Soonyoung.

 

Although everything in his life has changed, two things stay the same: Soonyoung and the equations he works with. He may be studying far from home, and hours away from Soonyoung, but the refractory formula of the human cornea is constant, as is the smile Soonyoung gives him whenever they meet.

 

Soonyoung kisses him on the couch of his parent’s house, the cushions digging uncomfortably into Wonwoo’s back. His boyfriend’s legs are draped on either side of Wonwoo’s hips, and Wonwoo has the smaller sitting on his lap, hands holding Soonyoung’s face.

“I missed you,” he whispers. It’s an embarrassing thing to say, but also frighteningly true. Distance makes it hard to see one another, and it makes time go on forever. In response, Soonyoung knots his hands behind Wonwoo’s neck, pulling Wonwoo closer so that Soonyoung can pepper his face with kisses.

A peck on his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the creases of his forehead, and even the delicate skin of his eyelids.

“Missed you too, nerd.”

“Why am I the nerd?” Wonwoo runs his hands softly down his boyfriend’s back, then back up again. Rubbing in circles. “You’re doing your masters too.”

“Because you love numbers,” the man on his lap whispers, mouth just an inch away from Wonwoo’s. And Wonwoo quite literally makes Soonyoung swallow his words, closing the distance between them and initiating another kiss. But this time, with more force and intent, he presses harder. Soonyoung breaks away to laugh right in Wonwoo’s face. “Math nerd.”

 

**_Those beautiful nights._ **

 

“I hate your apartment,” Soonyoung whines, folding his arms across his chest in dislike.

“I know you do, but not everyone is studying near home, Soon. My parents live hours away from me, I can’t stay at their house.”

“I know that.”

Soonyoung prances his way to the rusty, old couch. Unlike the one at Soonyoung’s place, this one is covered in stains. In an ideal world, the stains would simply be from the cup noodles that Wonwoo’s roommate, Mingyu, likes to eat while sitting on it. Life is seldom ideal, though, and those stains are _definitely_ not from food.

“Come here,” Wonwoo sighs, opening up his arms. Soonyoung walks over, hooking his chin on Wonwoo’s shoulder, and squeezing the life out of Wonwoo’s body. He rubs soothing circles onto Soonyoung’s back. “I had to ride the bus for hours to get to your place, last week. You can put up with my shitty apartment for a few days.”

“It’s so ugly,” Soonyoung puffs, smothering a laugh. “Junhui would’ve screamed at the grubbiness.”

“Junhui is in Shenzhen and Jihoon is miles away, Soon,” Wonwoo snorts. “Let’s do something other than talk about old roommates.”

“Hmm, like what?”

Wonwoo smiles into the kiss.

 

Equations change in the context of the question because nothing is ever constant.

 

**_I still love them_ **

 

Life is a slap of reality.

It’s funny, Wonwoo had convinced himself that university was the pinnacle of cruelty. He’d thought that post-secondary was where all coddling came to a screeching halt, and where dreams were stepped on and crushed underneath the soles of feet. But the real punch line comes after university, something he couldn’t have known back then. Something he still doesn’t know now.

At every moment in his life, he’d think, _“this is it, it doesn’t get worse than this”_. But that’s a lie, because there is _always_ something harder, something more difficult, on the near horizons.

“Can’t talk now, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says into his phone, scrambling to shove a water bottle into his school bag while kicking Mingyu, who is asleep on the couch, awake. His roommate groans, sitting up with the worst case of bed head that Wonwoo’s ever seen.

There’s a pause on the other line. “Kay.”

“Talk to you later?”

“Sure, sure.”

 

Wonwoo carefully puts down his phone.

“Something the matter?” Mingyu peers over at him from the cushions of the couch. A Styrofoam container of noodles sits snuggly on his lap.

“Nothing.”

“Looks like something,” Mingyu argues, laughing at the annoyed look Wonwoo flashes him.

“It’s nothing.”

And on the screen of his dim phone, the notification sits unperturbed. Rejected call, his phone tells him sadly.

 

“Sorry, I was busy! Did you need something?”

“No, of course not. Just calling.”

“Oh, okay. That’s good.”

 

 

 **_Maybe you were too shy to say it. Maybe you didn’t like me.  
_ ** **_I still have no idea._ **

 

“Hello.”

Wonwoo turns to face the boy beside him. They’re strangers, forced to sit beside each other due to the alphabet. Jeon and Kwon; they sound like a bad 90’s sitcom.

Kwon, Soonyoung if Wonwoo remembers correctly, has a head of blond hair. It’s badly damaged and in dire need of deep conditioning, perhaps a vat of coconut oil. He has round cheeks, splashed with a flush of pink from the September chill. Slanted eyes stare straight at Wonwoo, paired with upturned, pink lips.

And Wonwoo has never been the best with first impressions, so he gives a small wave, turning away to face the front of the classroom.

 

It’s not that Wonwoo dislikes his seat partner, he’s just not sure what to say. He and Soonyoung, if that’s even the blonde’s name, have nothing in common. They have no overlapping friends, they came from different elementary schools, and the only similarity they have is sharing a mathematics class, and that’s not something either of them particularly enjoy.

Wonwoo doesn’t get it. Soonyoung isn’t particularly chatty. He talks a lot, sure, and always in an excited voice, but only to those he seems close to. The boy isn’t shy, but he’s also not the type to force others into conversation. So why Soonyoung finds the need to tap Wonwoo’s shoulder every morning with a chipper ‘good morning’, is beyond him.

 

Soonyoung gets frustrated a lot. He squints down at his papers and textbook, eyebrows scrunched up, and a scowl on his normally cheerful face. Whenever fractions pop up, Soonyoung nibbles on the eraser at the end of his pencil, a vacant look in his eyes. Wonwoo has to suppress laughter then, and he almost wants to reach out and tap his seat mate’s shoulder. Almost wants to ask, _“do you need help?”_

There are instances where he finds himself almost doing it, hands reached out as if to initiate contact. Mouth parted as if to form words.

 

Soonyoung is late to class one morning, and he sprints in just as their teacher is starting the lesson. The freshman rushes to sit down, a flustered look on his face. He’s gasping a little, short of breath. And there’s something funny about it, this situation. In reality, it’s not funny at all, but Wonwoo still finds himself smiling.

Before he can stop himself, he’s opened his mouth and whispered, “good morning.”

Soonyoung blinks then blinks again. And, with an intake of breath and a surprised smile, he repeats the sentiments.

 

**_You naïve one_ **

 

Soonyoung hums, the sound oddly soothing. The halls of their high school are empty, devoid of students and teachers. The janitor has passed by them a few times, but she doesn’t spare them a second glance.

“Wonwoo, do you like me?”

And he wants to say a lot more than yes, but that’s all that comes out of his mouth. Soonyoung smiles as if he swallowed the stars, laughs as if he finds merriment in every long, stilted or short breath that he takes. Wonwoo likes that, and he likes Soonyoung too.

“Is it supposed to be like this?” he finds himself asking, puzzled. “This easy?”

“Yeah.”

 

 

**_You heartless one_ **

 

The drift is an amicable one, or as amicable as breakups can be, anyway. It starts slow, as most things do, but the chasm becomes too great to cross. But no, that would be a lie. The distance between them is big, and the obstacles are many, and Wonwoo is afraid of what that means. Of what that might lead to.

Soonyoung does nothing, and Wonwoo tries not to think too hard about what that might mean. It becomes too much effort for them, travelling such long distances to speak and forgetting to recite stories to one another. Eventually, they decide not to say the stories at all - it’d be too much trouble to explain what has already passed. It’s time-consuming and difficult, and not at all like the coffee kisses and warm embraces of university.

Wonwoo is the one who ends it. He’s never liked things like this, dragging on something that shouldn’t be dragged on.

Soonyoung smiles at him when they meet, but there’s a touch of something that Wonwoo doesn’t recognize in the expression. A flicker of an emotion that is unfamiliar to Wonwoo.

 

(He comes to realize later, when Soonyoung is gone, that it is regret.)

 

He nods when Wonwoo says it. Soonyoung is no fool. He’d seen this coming and had been waiting to see which one of them would end it.

“Let’s stop seeing each other,” Wonwoo says. Soonyoung laughs, softer than he usually does. Sadder than he usually does.

“Okay.”

They stop to breathe for a bit. Wonwoo has but one question left; he’s not sure what answer he wants to receive. “Is it supposed to be like this?” _This quick, this painless, this easy._

There is no hesitation in Soonyoung’s reply, and that in itself is an answer. “Yeah.”

 

**_I maybe be clumsy, but I loved you so much_ **

 

There _is_ such a thing as a happy goodbye.

The sadness lies in the realizations that follow the goodbye, in the empty silence of long weekends, and in memories that stretch farther than the eye can see. Wonwoo had always said that he loved Soonyoung, careless words thrown out without thought. It’s afterwards that he realizes, really realizes, that he _had_ loved Soonyoung. They were, and still are, immature, young boys with wide eyes and fickle feelings, but Wonwoo had loved Soonyoung as much as he was capable of.

He’s not sure if he still loves him, but he knows that he had, at one point, thought the world of Soonyoung. That he had loved kissing his chapped and chalky lips, had loved it when Soonyoung rested his head on the crook of Wonwoo’s neck, and had loved hearing him speak and laugh and breathe.

In the end, Wonwoo tells himself that it was for the best. They’d been falling apart, and it hadn’t mattered whether Wonwoo had loved Soonyoung, or whether Soonyoung had loved him back. None of that could have salvaged what was already too broken.

 

(Although they never even tried.)

 

 

 **_I’ll go looking for you in Neverland  
_ ** **_There, you and I are smiling_ **

 

Minkyung reminds Wonwoo of Junhui. They share small, unconscious habits. Gentle taps of fingers on table tops, and soft laughter that tinkles in the air whenever they find something amusing. Even her mannerisms reflect Jun sometimes; she cocks her head whenever she gets confused, and wears a pout when she's troubled. Minkyung snorts when Wonwoo tells her this, saying that Junhui is the one that is similar to _her_ and not the other way around.

“Jun’s the same age as me,” Wonwoo grumbles, stretching his legs underneath the café table. “Airgo, he is older than you. So, _you’re_ the one that resembles him.”

“You’re easy to dislike, did you know that?”

Minkyung is his best friend. There’s no real reason for this other than the fact that she gets along well with him. She finds him funny, although she vehemently denies this, and is capable of juggling his sarcastic quips. It’s all Wonwoo could ever ask for in a friend. They never talk about it, but Minkyung knows that she is Wonwoo's closest companion, and Wonwoo knows that he is her's.

“Jihoon and Junhui,” Minkyung muses, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. She cringes as it bursts.

“Sour?”

 _"Very_. I should have gotten the panini.” There’s a pause of chewing before his friend continues. “Do you ever talk to them?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I message Junhui sometimes, mostly about stupid shit that reminds me of university. Kind of lost touch with Jihoon.”

“And Soonyoung?” Minkyung blinks innocently at his look of surprise, brushing her fingers on the napkin beside her plate. “You roomed with three guys, right? Soonyoung was the third?”

Too much time has gone by to hurt, but, sometimes, he thinks of maybes and what ifs. On good days, he laughs at their shenanigans. Often times, he'll remember random memories they shared. He remembers how Soonyoung had liked to kiss him without his glasses, and how sweet the coffee that morning had tasted. He wonders too what Soonyoung would say about Minkyung. They’d have gotten along, Wonwoo is sure of it.

“I don’t know,” Wonwoo admits.

 

**_Please don’t wander from my sights_ **

 

“Wonwoo?”

Soonyoung’s hair is black now, no longer a bright shade of yellow. It makes him look older, although that could just be because he _is_ older. Older than when Wonwoo last saw him, at least. A coffee house in the bustling city is an unlikely place to meet. Wonwoo hates caffeine, and Soonyoung can’t handle it, but they bump into one another with warm, cardboard cups in their hands.

They’re both a little older now, a little different.

“Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung looks good, healthy even. His cheeks are fuller and his skin is a little more tanned. The boy in front of Wonwoo smiles, a look of stunned pleasure consuming his features. “Wonwoo, your hair.”

He reaches up and self-consciously touches the strands of ash blond. “Yeah, I dyed it.”

There’s another laugh, a lighter one. It still sounds as stupid as it did before. He used to hear it whenever he whispered badly timed jokes into Soonyoung’s ear. Appearances change, people change, and maybe friendships do too, but laughter stays the same.

“I thought you were a tea person?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I learned to like coffee, the sweeter varieties, anyway.” He nods towards the cup in Soonyoung’s hand.

“I learned to handle it,” Soonyoung admits.

So even the little things have changed, the small habits that they had known to be true are no longer so. But that’s to be expected because they’re different people now.

 

It’s a chance meeting, and Soonyoung grabs his wrist, steadying Wonwoo in a world that is so rarely ever steady.

 

 ******_The place where you live, take me there too_**

 

Soonyoung doesn’t dance anymore, to Wonwoo's disappointment. He’d been such an avid dancer in university, he’d even headed a dance crew in their fourth year. Dancing was something Soonyoung loved, something that lit a passion in his eyes.

“I haven’t got the time,” Soonyoung says. He must see the pity in Wonwoo’s expression because he forges on. “It’s alright, I’ve got other pastimes now.”

Wonwoo remembers how good Soonyoung had been at reading Wonwoo, how he could see even the most minuscule of changes in his expression.

“I still write,” he admits, because he knows Soonyoung is going to ask. “As a pastime.”

“Will you ever write a book one day?”

_“Like you used to want to.” The words hang on the edge of Soonyoung’s tongue, unheard and unsaid._

“Maybe.”

_"Not about the things I said I would, though. We were young then, Soonyoung, and the things I write about have changed along with me,” Wonwoo almost says. And these words go unheard too._

Soonyoung leans forward on the table, his bangs brushing the tops of his eyelids ever so slightly. He peers up at Wonwoo’s face with an expression that Wonwoo recognizes.

 

(It’s one of hope.)

 

**_I’ll follow you to the ends of the world_ **

 

Wonwoo is not a sappy person. Feelings are lost on him and before meeting Soonyoung, he’d almost convinced himself that he was devoid of emotion. Well, maybe not devoid, but not prone to emotional fits. Not the type of person who was consumed so blindly by a concept as intangible as feelings.

But meeting Soonyoung, loving him, that had been different. Something new. And, like him, the love he had given was immature. Childish in its naivety, and thoughtless in its execution. He and Soonyoung had given up because it became too hard, because it wasn’t as easy as they’d wanted it to be. They’d given up because bus rides took too long and phone calls were never good enough.

The thing is, love isn’t _supposed_ to be easy. It’s a simple truth that a child could not have known, and he’s still a child now. A child sitting on his bed, thinking of what would have happened if he had given thought to the words coming out of his mouth.

_“Let’s stop seeing each other.”_

Soonyoung had nodded, a formal smile playing on his pink lips. They’d both been fools, he realizes with amusement. Two children playing adults. They’d split up because that was easier than trying to mend what was slowly becoming undone. But giving up isn’t maturity, it is cowardice. It is laziness.

It’s been so long, and Soonyoung has changed, but Wonwoo is still where he was years before. Loving Soonyoung as much as he’s capable of, enough to make his chest constrict and his heart stutter.

 

**_Don’t disappear, even when morning comes_ **

 

Soonyoung is the one who says it.

“Do you want to try again?” he asks. And before Wonwoo is able to answer, Soonyoung continues on. “It doesn’t have to end the same way.”

But reflected in Soonyoung’s eyes is the scared, little boy too afraid to try and fix something that could so easily have been fixed. He can only imagine what Soonyoung sees in the depths of Wonwoo’s eyes.

“It doesn’t,” Wonwoo repeats slowly.

A small voice in his heart dares to hope.

Wonwoo says yes.

 

 

**_It’s okay to have scars, they will make you who you are_ **

 

Falling in love is the easy part.

They remember what it felt like to love each other and, with little difficulty, they retrace their footsteps. They relearn the small things, relearn the feeling of chapped lips and soft fingers.

It’s easy to fall in love with someone whom you loved so dearly in the past.

(Whom you, maybe, never stopped loving.)

The hard part is the fear.

There’s always the anxiety that things will unravel. It happened once and it can happen again. Their love is not as pure or as reckless as their younger days. Sometimes, when Soonyoung goes out late, Wonwoo is scared that he won’t come back. That he’ll smile that pitiful smile again, and hold Wonwoo’s hand one, last time.

Other times, it’s Soonyoung that worries. When Wonwoo’s voice drops low, coated with seriousness, there’s a manic fear that consumes Soonyoung’s eyes. He’s afraid of hearing the words that he dreaded that day, years before, and still dreads now.

 

_“Let’s stop seeing each other.”_

 

**_It’s okay to have fear, as long as you’re not afraid of coming here_ **

 

Their love is not as pure or as reckless as their younger days, but that’s only because it’s matured alongside them.

It took some time to realize it.

Love can't always be happy and good. It’s hard and it’s frustrating, it’s getting ahead of yourself and tripping over your own feet. There are bad days, a lot of bad days, and they have to learn to be okay with that.

With Soonyoung there, there are more good days than there are bad. Wonwoo thinks that this is what happiness must be like.

 

**_You pull me out of the dark and now it’s light_ **

 

“You’re such a glutton.”

Soonyoung is staring at the glass vial of chocolates that sit on their dining room table. Minkyung had sent it as a Christmas gift. Soonyoung had collapsed with laughter when reading the card accompanying the gift.

 

_Hope you’re doing well, Soonyoung. Love you lots. These chocolates are for Wonwoo, tell him to get some meat on that bony ass._

_Love,  
_ _Minky_

 

He shuffles over to his fool of a boyfriend and takes a seat beside him. The December chills have set in, and Wonwoo stretches out his legs so that they lay comfortably on Soonyoung’s lap. It does little to warm him, but it’s fun to see his victim struggle. Usually, Soonyoung shrieks about how cold Wonwoo’s legs are, and immediately push them off. But, thanks to Minkyung’s gifts, Soonyoung is too distracted to do this.

“I’ve got to choose the right one,” Soonyoung mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.

“What?”

“Which flavour do I eat?” Wonwoo blinks at the question, but it was said with complete seriousness.

“Incredible.”

“What?”

“You’re so dumb, it’s incredible.” Wonwoo laughs when Soonyoung turns to frown at him. He takes the opportunity to pull his boyfriend out of his chair and right onto Wonwoo’s lap. Soonyoung links his hands behind Wonwoo’s neck.

“You’re distracting me from the chocolate.”

Wonwoo is happy at that moment. He’s happy because he loves the boy sitting on his lap, and he loves how warm Soonyoung’s middle feels around his arms, and he loves that he gets to kiss Soonyoung’s stupid, crummy lips.

“I love you,” he says.

“Love you too.”

 

**_So you can hold me and we’ll watch Christmas TV_ **

 

“If I asked somewhere in the future, would you marry me?” Wonwoo queries one day, eyes trained on the television. He’s too scared to look over and meet his boyfriend’s gaze.

There’s a pause of nothing before Soonyoung speaks.

“Yeah. Somewhere in that future, I’ll be there, smiling at your shitty proposal.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Art Credit: [the most talented most wonderful most lovely kait.](https://twitter.com/96Iine)  
>  
> 
> A special thank you goes out to Alex (ao3 user cuman), for betaing this hunk of attempted fluff and saying nice stuff about it!!! Bro, you're my ultimate beta. The beta of my gamma soul. My hallux and one (1) boob twitches for you.
> 
> The lyrics in this fic are from the songs: galaxy (bolbalgan4), a-ing (oh my girl), my old story (iu), peter pan (exo), don't go (exo), and christmas tv (slow club)


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